An Angel's Revenge
by HeddaGabler
Summary: Sequel of "Seven Days To Madness": AU Castoff Angel Bulma and Ex-Fallen Angel Vegeta must join forces in order to outplay those who are responsible for their current situation, but will Vegeta be willing to work with Bulma? Rated M for a reason
1. A New Dawn

Dear reader!

Welcome to my new story called "An Angel's Revenge". This story is the sequel of "Seven Days To Madness" and therefore it may be useful to read that story first (Only seven rather short chapters). Anyways. This story will deal with the unanswered question that appeared in "Seven Days To Madness" and in the end, all shall be solved. Until then, it's a long road and as usual, each chapter will be inspired by a prompt given at Blue & Black Community at Livejournal, which you should check out if you are remotely interested in Bulma and Vegeta. ;)

**Warnings:** This story will contain graphic violence, cussing, nudity, intercourse and religious themes.

**Prompt:** Dawn - 500 words. Published on September 6th 2011

And now, have fun!

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A new dawn had broken, but the fog from last night hadn't lifted yet. A lone jogger trotted through the park listening to his MP3 player. Maybe if he hadn't tried to rupture his eardrums by hearing music on full blast, he would have noticed the moans that sounded from the huge rhododendrons. Unfortunately for the source of the moaning, he hadn't heard anything unusual and therefore continued his way.

Bulma closed her eyes as the pain threatened to become unbearable. When she had heard the footfalls of the jogger, she had hoped that he would find her, but he didn't. It was still early in the morning and it'd take a few hours until the park would come to life. Till then, she had to last. If only the cut in her flank would stop bleeding! Yet she had not the strength to do something about it. Heck! She hadn't even had clothes she could use to dress the wound. Whoever would find her, would see her stark naked. She felt the shame of it all burning in her cheeks.

They would pay for what they'd done! This thought was the only thing that kept her alive. She swore herself that she would take her revenge on the two man who had betrayed her from the very beginning. Even if it meant fighting against both, heaven and hell. The only question that remained, was: How? How was she supposed to do it? She had been an ordinary Angel Apprentice. How could she hope to deal some serious damage to Lucifer and the Redeemer himself? She had never been cruel to anyone in her life or her afterlife. Well, except from one exception…

Her own downfall was tightly connected to the doom of the Fallen Angel she had helped to lure into the trap. Within one week she had managed to lead him astray. In the end the man had committed each of the seven deadly sins and even tried to overthrow Lucifer. The poor soul didn't know what was happening to him, when the Redeemer himself had rescued Lucifer in the nick of time and punished the traitor harshly. His fate was probably worse than her own, as he had been send back to earth to live as a mortal. 'Serves him right for the way he led humans to commit mortal sins, that ruthless, spiteful monster!' she thought haughtily.

Bulma's eyes snapped open and her mouth gaped. She hadn't seen the wood for the trees! Of course, _he_ would be the key to her revenge! It would be easy to persuade him too, as he had probably a good thirst for vengeance himself. The only problem would be finding him.

Bulma sneered. They should have killed her, when they had the chance. They should have taken her angelic powers from her, before she'd use them against them. She heard the distant chatter of children approaching. The Angel sighed, there was no way of avoiding it.

"Vegeta…," Bulma whispered.


	2. Meeting The Secretary

It has been a long time... But I am back in business now. This drabble was written for the Blue & Black Community at Livejournal, a community that is dedicated to Bulma and Vegeta.

**Warnings:** This story will contain graphic violence, cussing, nudity, intercourse and religious themes in varying degrees.

**Prompt:** Shopping - Earth Customs Challenge. 532 Words.

And now, have fun!

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Hole.

This was probably the most adequate way to describe the small office that was currently kept hostage by complete darkness. If one however switched on the lights, they would see the piles of unsorted papers, the mountains of half-filled boxes and the remains of approximately seven lunches. The floor resembled a minefield of empty beer bottles and broken shards. A dead rat was rotting in one corner of the room, while cockroaches were celebrating a party in the other. The only charming quality this hole offered was the silence. The basement walls sealed off the room from the world above quite effectively.

And yet this pleasant silence was broken by the creaking of the wooden door that was opened by a bulky man, who was as tall as a cupboard and just as wide. Gasping for air he stumbled into the dark room, carrying a large shopping bag in front of him. He kicked the bottles out of his way, causing some of them to break further. He deposited the bag on the desk, where he knocked over a half-opened and half-filled ink pot. The ink quickly dispersed on some official looking documents, but the owner of said ink and documents didn't seem to care, for he shambled back to the door and turned on the lights. The light bulb however did not produce enough light to illuminate the entire room, so the corners of the office remained in the shadows.

The bald man shrugged and headed towards the corner, where the cockroach party was still in full swing. He squatted down and watched the scene for a while, before he rummaged through his coat pockets. He retrieved a half-eaten sandwich to which some crumbs of tobacco were attached. He shook the sandwich in his hand, causing not only the tobacco leftovers to fall off, but also the salsa to sully his coat further. He then carefully placed the sandwich on the floor and smiled.

"Hope y'all like hot food," he grunted.

The man stood up and returned to his desk, where he sat down on a chair that almost collapsed under his weight. He leaned back and twirled the ends of his moustache, his only feature that was actually well-kept.

When he began to tilt on his chair with his feet propped against his desk, Bulma was at the end of her tether and jumped from the cupboard in the leftmost corner right in front of the human man. The man lost his balance and the chair fell over, finally breaking under the man's weight under a sickening cracking noise. The man hollered like an injured bull. Bulma sighed and circled the desk. The man lay on top of the remains of his chair, checking the back of his head with a shaking hand, while staring at her with eyes larger than his office's light bulb.

"Where is he, Nappa?" Bulma demanded.

"What are you talking about? What are you doing in my office?" the man retorted sourly.

"Vegeta. I must know where-"

"I don't know no fucking Vegeta or whatever his name was," Nappa cut in.

Bulma leaned forward and a smile ghosted over her lips.

"We will see."


	3. Strangle Me!

This drabble was written for the Blue & Black Community at Livejournal, a community that is dedicated to Bulma and Vegeta.

**Warnings:** This story will contain graphic violence, cussing, nudity, intercourse and religious themes in varying degrees.

**Prompt:** Bow Tie - 300 words. Published on January 20th 2012.

And now, have fun!

+++ooo+++ 

"Who the hell are you?" Nappa hissed.

"Hell? Please..."

Bulma chuckled, while she tightened the ropes that constrained the bulky man to his own desk. If his office was messy before, it now resembled chaos with all the papers scattered over the floor and the pathetic remains of the broken chair. When she was content with her work, the blue haired female waltzed over to the other side of the table. Bending down so that she could look him straight into the eyes, she smiled.

"On the contrary, I am an Angel," she purred.

The bald man's eyes grew large. "Then whaddya want from me?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. She took the ends of his dotted bow tie into her petite hands and played with them. She had never seen a bow tie this ugly: Mustards dots on a russet background. Why would an adult man wear something this hideous out of his own free will?

"I think, I've already told you. I want to know where Vegeta is."

"And I told you, I don't know a Vegeta!" he yelled.

The Angel Apprentice sighed. "I was afraid, you would refuse corporation."

She shook her head and then she began to pull on the ends of his bow tie. Nappa's eyes enlarged and sweat ran down his forehead. He gasped for air and tried to free himself, but to no avail. The ropes were too tight, as was Bulma's grip. The colour of his head slowly turned from red to blue.

"I...I...Talk...Let...Go," he wheezed.

She instantly let go and straightened herself. While Nappa coughed and tried to calm down, Bulma felt a wave of relief washing though her body. If he hadn't caved it soon, she would have released him anyway. She was no killer.

"Sorry, Vegeta," Nappa whispered. "Poor lad."


	4. One Ordinary Day In The Life Of Mr V

This chapter was written for the Blue & Black Community at Livejournal, a community that is dedicated to Bulma and Vegeta.

**Warnings:** This story will contain graphic violence, cussing, nudity, intercourse and religious themes in varying degrees.

**Prompt:** Orange (Spectrum Challenge) - 894 words. Published on January 23rd 2012.

And now, have fun!

+++ooo+++ 

PEEP PEEP PEEP

The heap of blankets atop the camp bed did not stir, despite the shrill peeping of the alarm clock next to it. The roller blind of the sole window was shut. Therefore, the only light source inside the room was the illuminated display of said clock, announcing the ungodly hour. Naturally, it was still dark outside.

PEEP PEEP PEEP

"Son of a bitch," the person beneath the blankets groaned against the cushion. A hand darted out from within the blankets and fumbled for the snooze key of the clock on the left side of the camp bed. After half a minute the hand had successfully silenced the annoying alarm and returned to its initial position buried beneath the mass of blankets. Just when the person had resumed its snoring, a loud bang outside droned up to the 17th floor in which his flat was located. Then a car alarm went off wailing. It destroyed the person's hopes for another five minutes of sleep.

First black upstanding hair emerged from the blankets, followed by two half-closed eyes and a three-day beard. Then the rest followed as the man stood up and walked into his cramped bathroom, where he splashed some water in his face. He regarded his reflection in the cracked mirror, then shrugged and grabbed the nearby bottle that was filled with a crystal clear liquid. He took a smell at it.

"Vodka," Vegeta concluded.

He took a deep draught and gargled for a few moments, before he spat it out again. Then he took another one, but this time he swallowed the bottom shelf liquor. He returned to the main room and picked up his orange working garment, donned it and left his room.

Five minutes later, after he had survived yet another trip down the stairway that smelled like urine and detergents, Vegeta left the high rise and headed towards the garbage truck that already had been waiting for him.

"Hey, V! You look like shit," one of his colleagues chuckled when Vegeta got on board.

"Unlike you, I at least don't smell like it," he retorted and dodged the attack that followed.

Andrew the driver laughed. "That is because you're not on the job for as long as Pete is."

"Yeah, right," Pete snorted. "After twenty-seven years you wouldn't smell like lilies, either."

"Hnn."

"First stop, girls!" Andrew exclaimed. "It's time to get some work done."

And thus, Vegeta and Pete got off and began to collect refuse sacks. They threw the collected sacks onto the truck. When all the garbage cans of the nearby houses had been emptied, they would hop on the small platforms attached to the truck and Andrew would drive a few yards further, where they began anew. This they would continue for the next eight hours: Collecting, throwing, driving. Repeat.

Vegeta always had to remain cautious, as broken wine bottles and used needles tried to force their way out of their plastic confinement. Sometimes dead animals fell out of the cans, but sometimes they weren't as lucky and the vivid beasts jumped at them, trying to bite their heads off. And last week a disturbed man had aimed his shotgun at Vegeta and Pete, thinking that the two of them were trying to rob him. His shot had missed Vegeta's buttocks only by inches.

And there simply was no escape from the smell.

Today, however, everything went according to plan. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened and so Vegeta and his colleagues found themselves in the same quayside bar that they always visited after work. The bar was always filled with binmen, sailors, dockers and a good amount of ne'er-do-wells. The air was filled with the smells of sweat, cigarette fumes and liquor. That was a combination that Vegeta's nose was able to make friends with.

When he left the bar a couple of hours later, Vegeta staggered across the dark streets and almost lost his keys – twice. On his way back home he greeted the fancy women who still had a long night ahead of them. They waved at him, he simply shook his head.

"Not tonight," he babbled to himself.

He finally arrived at home, opened the door to his flat and was greeted by a familiar peeping. He shambled to the other side of the dark room, not bothering to close the door behind him. The black-haired man bent down in order to switch off the alarm, but he somehow lost his balance in the process and crushed to the ground face first. Soon enough, he felt a warm fluid running down his forehead. Vaguely, he heard a door being closed with a dull thud.

As Vegeta was lying there on the cold floor tiles, his gaze wandered around. Of course, since he had installed no lights, his vision was somewhat limited. However, the small wooden casket was something that he could make out in the dark. It was slumbering peacefully beneath his camp bed, until Vegeta decided to open it. He carefully took out the heavy silver revolver into his right hand and rolled onto his back. Staring at the ceiling for seemingly endless moments, he eventually began to move again.

Slowly he pressed the barrel of his weapon against his right temple. Then, with a desperate smile on his face, he pulled the trigger.

Everything went dark.


	5. Be Quiet! I'm Dead!

This chapter was written for the Blue & Black Community at Livejournal, a community that is dedicated to Bulma and Vegeta.

**Warnings:** This story will contain graphic violence, cussing, nudity, profanity, intercourse and religious themes in varying degrees.

**Prompt:** Sound (Senses Challenge) - 375 words. Published on January 25th 2012.

And now, have fun!

+++ooo+++ 

_Light. _

_If he had known that death was ablaze with light, he would have brought sun glasses. He tried to avert his gaze from the light, but it insisted on following him. Was this his punishment for the sins he had committed during his days as both, human and Fallen Angel? Or had someone simply forgotten to switch out the lights? And where did that weird vanilla smell come from? _

Vegeta!

_Yes, that was his given name. He remembered it well, despite being dead and all. It had been the proud name of a proud man. If had Vegeta still been alive, he would have smirked... How odd! He still had the feeling that he could actually move the corners of his mouth. Probably his soul hadn't left his body completely yet. _

Vegeta, stop grinning and wake up!

_There was that voice again. Who the hell was trying to bug him? Couldn't they see that he was occupied being dead? He had no time for such nonsense. Wake up, as if! Finally the voice was gone and Vegeta-_

Jumped up with a start as icy water splashed all over him. It took him a few moments until Vegeta realized where exactly he was. He was sitting on the cold floor tiles of his apartment, drenched. Someone had changed the light bulb, which was now illuminating the room. Said someone was currently standing in front of him, armed with a bucket.

It was that obnoxious blue-haired girl.

Vegeta clenched his fists, only to find that his right hand still was clutching his revolver. He looked from the revolver back to the girl. He shrugged, aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger.

CLICK

He pulled again.

CLICK

CLICK CLICK CLICK

"Do you think that I am that stupid?" the Angel sneered as she showed him the rounds in her left hand.

Vegeta shrugged once more and got to his feet, his right hand still clutching the gun. He gazed down at it, sighed and then he redirected his gaze at her again, took aim and threw the gun at her. She dodged and in return doused him with cold water from his dirt bucket.

"Are we done now playing childish games?"

"Guess so," Vegeta wheezed.


	6. Guilt

This chapter wasn't inspired by a prompt, but the next ones will be again.

Have fun!

+++ooo+++

Bulma scrutinized Vegeta, who stood motionless in front of her. The former Fallen Angel looked like a mess. His clothes were dirty, his hair shaggy and he needed a good shave. Better yet, a shower first, then a shave. Nothing was left of the former well-kept man, who looked best in a finely tailored suit. If hadn't been for the look in his eyes, she would have turned on her heels immediately, for Vegeta didn't look like he could be any help to anyone at all. However, there was still fire in his eyes. As he was glaring daggers at her, she hoped that this would be enough to bring out the old Vegeta. Proud, ruthless, vicious.

When she had entered his flat, she had inspected everything. It only took her a minute, and apart from the weapon nothing interesting was found. She had removed the bullets from the gun as a matter of precaution, for she had no desire whatsoever to be shot by the maniac in front of her. Never would she have thought that he would direct the gun at himself. She had been shocked to say the least. And against her own will, she pitied him. And with the pity came the guilt, for she felt partly responsible for his current state.

Of course, no one had forced him to become a Fallen Angel in the first place, or to commit all these horrible crimes and sins during his days in Lucifer's service. He was not a nice person; rude, arrogant, evil. In fact, she doubted that he had been any better as a mortal before he had become Lucifer's henchman. And yet, she was an Angel to the core. She felt sorry for the miserable creature and wondered what exactly had been the reason for him to become what he was. No one was born evil, not even Vegeta.

However, the sensation of guilt and compassion vanished instantly, when Vegeta walked over, positioned himself in front of her, put out his little friend and…

Dribble, dribble, dribble – flow…

"VEGETA, YOU BASTARD!"

"What? I need to piss," he replied flatly.


	7. A Lil' Chat Between Old Friends

As said in the beginning of this story: The chapters will contain crude language in various degrees. ;)

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Vegeta glanced at the blue haired girl with a guarded expression. After he had used her as a fire hydrant, she had wordlessly gone into the bathroom and taken a shower. She had returned mere five minutes later, clad in new clothes that were just as hideous as the previous ones, and was now sitting at his bed, drying her hair with a clean towel, which was definitely not one of his. Right now, he did not possess anything clean.

Apart from showering him with water from his bucket, she hadn't even responded to his attempts to kill her. For someone usually this feisty, it was an extremely suspicious way to act. This could only mean one thing: She wanted something from him, desperately. She must have been very desperate indeed to seek him out, if she put up with his stench as well as with his mood.

The nerve of her! After all what she had done to him that little bitch!

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, as she stopped her fussing about her blue hair and began to gaze at him intently, without saying anything. If she wasn't making the first step, he wouldn't do it either. If she didn't spit out what this was all about, he would strangle her for sure; or ignore her, or jump out of the window or whatever… Thus they remained silent for another half an hour, until Vegeta's eyes began to switch uncontrollably.

"Fine, what do you want?" he asked at last.

"I need help Vegeta," she said quietly.

"Keh, as if I would help you with anything after the stunt you have pulled."

Bulma smiled. "Yes, that was what I thought, too. Then again, you still might be interested in my proposal."

"Kiss my ass, bitch," he said and without further ado he left his flat.


End file.
